


"I have standards, Crowley!"

by StargazerNataku



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: How Do I Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 06:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StargazerNataku/pseuds/StargazerNataku
Summary: “Absolutely not!”“Aw, Angel, come on. It wouldn’t dare disobey me.”An angel and a demon attempt to adapt to life post-Armageddon’t. First step? Cutting down on frivolous miracles. Or attempting to anyway.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	"I have standards, Crowley!"

“Absolutely not!”

“Aw, Angel, come on. It wouldn’t dare disobey me.”

“No, Crowley! It’s very delicate! It needs special care!”

“And it’ll get it. If this thing knows what’s good for it,” he said menacingly, casting a glare down at the washing machine next to him. It was shaking, which in general was not necessarily strange. What made it odd—at least to a non celestial/occult observer—was that it was not, as of yet, running. 

“Crowley, you may do as you wish with your things, but I have _ standards. _”

“So do I!” Crowley protested. 

“It’s all well and good, but until you wear one-hundred eighty year old bespoke clothing that were precisely tailored from high quality _ silk _and other hand woven fabrics, you cannot possibly have a say. That machine would simply ruin them.”

“You do realize that I’m the one who _ invented _ dry clean only clothes, yes?”

“And a very evil act that was, my dear. Most horrible. But these are special, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, holding his jacket and waistcoat more tightly to his chest. “And even if they looked the same, I would _ know.” _His face flushed in anxiety. 

Crowley shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you’re the one who’s going to be without them for days if you ‘do it properly’, as you say.”

“Oh,” and here Aziraphale flushed for an entirely different reason. “It won’t take so long. Really. A half hour and everything will be tickety-boo.”

“Really.”

“My dear, yes. They do it while I wait.”

“Angel.” Crowley turned so his back was to the trembling machine and he was facing Aziraphale head on. “The _ whole purpose _ of buying the machine in the first place was to _ cut down on frivolous miracles.” _

The Angel has the grace to look somewhat abashed. “Well what else am I supposed to wear?” He demanded. “It’s not frivolous, it’s cold out these days, Crowley!”

He shook his head, the side of his mouth quirking up in a grin. “Sure thing, Angel,” he said, tone heavily weighted with amusement. “I give. You do what you want. But I’ll be using this. And it _ will _ cooperate,” he hissed at the machine. “So will the clothes.” He glared at the full basket beside him, the pile within shrinking in upon itself.” He turned back to the dials and knobs before him. “Now. How the heaven do you work the blessed thing?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Twitter’s fault. Someone made a tweet along the lines of “I don’t dry clean, I just throw it in the washer and hope for the best.” I had a mental image of Crowley threatening the washing machine like he does his plants, and now here we are. Also it really needs a better title. Let me know if you have any suggestions.


End file.
